Summary: Bonding with his worst enemy was not something Eli had in mind when he decided to go to the Ravine.

Disclaimer: Don't own Degrassi. 'Nuff said.

Author's Note: Okay, so this idea has been in my head since… even before the Fall episodes, actually. I just haven't gotten around to writing it until now, and after what's happened, I've had to make a few changes.

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A Mutual Understanding
By: Lady Azura

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What the hell was he doing?

That was the only question going through Eli's head as he reached his chosen destination at last. After parking Morty some distance away, he cut the engine and got out.

He'd heard of the Ravine before, but had never been there. It wasn't exactly his scene. He wasn't a prude or anything — he'd smoked pot before, with Julia when they were thirteen or fourteen, but he didn't make a habit of it. Shoving his hands into his pockets, Eli ventured on. As he got closer, the smell of piss and booze became more prominent. He ducked to avoid being smacked in the face by a tree branch, and seconds later, he'd arrived.

It was around eight or nine. The sun had already set, and the first thing Eli noticed was a group of people sitting around a bonfire, smoking and drinking. Some were making out, but he didn't pay any attention to them. Those who weren't doing anything eyed him suspiciously, but didn't say anything. He didn't care. He knew that to them he was just a stranger, and for that he was glad. He knew from Adam, who knew through Drew, that Bianca DeSousa was a Ravine regular, but he didn't see her.

Eli didn't see anyone he knew, and was about to relax when he saw him.

Mark Fitzgerald.

The bane of his existence, sitting alone on a picnic table, away from the crowd. He looked oddly calm as he stared off into space, cancer stick dangling from his lips.

Clenching his fists, Eli turned to leave, but just as he did Fitz glanced in his direction and caught his eye. Eli froze like a deer in the headlights, watching as Fitz's brow furrowed in confusion and then arch in mild surprise. A knowing smirk crept across Fitz's face, and against Eli's better judgement, he made his way over to his tormentor.

"Got some nerve, emo boy, coming to my turf." Fitz chuckled. There was no threat in his voice, but Eli kept his guard up nonetheless.

"I didn't come here to fight." He said.

Fitz blinked.

"Well… that's good. 'Cause I wouldn't have fought you anyway." He told him, reaching into his shirt to pull out a silver chain with a cross dangling from it.

Eli scoffed, rolling his eyes.

"How long are you gonna keep up this act before you realize Clare's not gonna fall for it?" He snapped.

"It's not an act," said Fitz defensively. "I really have changed, Eli."

Hearing his name coming from the Neanderthal before him made him nearly cringe.

"Yeah. Sure." He sneered. "What's that then?" He motioned to the cigarette in Fitz's hand.

"Old habits die hard." Fitz answered simply. He took a long drag before continuing, "So… what brings you here?"

Eli stayed silent, debating whether or not to answer. Fitz was the enemy, he reminded himself; Fitz had pulled a knife on him and tried to steal Clare away. He was a bad guy, but it seemed as if he was the only one who knew Fitz hadn't changed — who could see right through the façade. People didn't change over night. Fitz was still the same menace that he was before he'd been hauled off to Juvie. It was so obvious and yet, in that moment, Eli could sense no hostility from the taller boy. His body remained lax and unguarded while Eli's was tense.

"I needed a break." He said at last. "Figured this would be a good place to come."

"A break?" Fitz echoed disbelievingly. "A break from what? Your perfect life?"

Eli scowled at him. "You don't know anything."

"I know that you have a girlfriend who's head over heels for you, and friends who actually like you." Fitz retorted. "I know you get good grades and will probably go places. Bet your parents must be proud of you, eh?" He let out a bitter laugh. "I'd give anything for that."

Eli stared at Fitz uncertainly, not sure how to react. Glancing around, he half expected one of Fitz's cronies to approach them, and for Fitz to revert to his old ways and prove him right, but no one did. Had Fitz come to the Ravine alone?

Before he could dwell on the matter any longer, Fitz got up. Eli started, suddenly jarred from his thoughts, and Fitz smirked but didn't comment on it. Instead, he began walking away, pausing only to motion Eli to follow.

"C'mon. Let's get out of here."

.

.

.

Eli had no idea how they wound up in Morty, sitting across from one another with their legs outstretched, just lounging. It was so surreal, but Eli had long since stopped caring. When they'd left the Ravine, Fitz had managed to swipe them a six pack and a few other illegal items. Eli was already on his second beer; he felt warm and numb and completely at ease.

In his alcohol-induced stupor, he watched his nemesis light a joint and bring it to his lips. Had it been any other day, Eli would've protested — the last thing he needed was for the smell of pot to linger behind. Although certainly no stranger to drugs, his parents, especially Cece, would be less than thrilled, and he didn't even want to think about how Clare would react.

"Hey," Fitz's voice cut into his thoughts, and Eli glanced up.

The other teen gave him an expectant look as he held out his joint. Eli eyed the joint cautiously for a moment, wondering if Fitz had done something to it. He wouldn't have put it past him, especially not after he'd spiked his punch with Ipecac. Rather than turn down the offer, however, Eli caved and plucked the joint from Fitz's fingers. At first, he just stared at it, trying to think back to when he and Julia had experimented with it, but his memories were foggy. He'd have to wing it, he realized, and with that in mind Eli brought the joint to his lips and inhaled.

Seconds later, he was coughing uncontrollably, his face hot and eyes burning. Fitz laughed half-heartedly at him and promptly stole the joint back.

He clearly wasn't new to it, and — not wanting to be upstaged, Eli snatched the damn thing out of the "reformed" bully's mouth, bringing it to his own once more.

It should've bothered him that it was covered in Fitz's germs, but it didn't.

Before long, the back of Morty had become clouded with smoke, and Eli could just scarcely make out Fitz through the thick haze, even with the light on. Without thinking, he scooted closer to his tormentor so that they were sitting side by side, and it was there, due to their close proximities, that Eli saw the dark rings — bruises — around Fitz's neck.

Fitz must have felt him staring, because he made a face before realizing what Eli was looking at.

"What happened?" Eli blurted.

Fitz shrugged, reaching up to rub his neck.

"I flushed my brother's stash." He said. "He didn't like that."

"He's having problems at home." Clare's words rang loud in his head.

At the time he hadn't believed her, or Fitz, and thought that Fitz was just trying to weasel his way into Clare's good graces, knowing what a forgiving and compassionate person she was.

But maybe Fitz really did have a rough home life.

Eli doubted he made those bruises himself.

While it didn't justify the fact that he was a complete asshole who cornered him with a knife, it did explain why Fitz turned out the way he did. At least to a certain degree, Eli admitted to himself begrudgingly.

"I killed my girlfriend," he confessed, much to his own surprise. He blamed the pot and alcohol coursing through his veins for the sudden inability to stop running his mouth. He didn't want Fitz of all people to know his darkest secrets, but he went on. "And drove the next one away."

Fitz's eyebrows shot up, threatening to disappear into his hairline. "… what?"

"Clare said I was 'suffocating' her. She wanted space. So we're on a break right now." Eli told him. There was bitterness laced in his voice as he grabbed his beer and downed the rest.

"Is that why you came here?" Fitz asked.

Eli nodded slowly, recalling the fight he and Clare had had earlier that day. "Yeah…"

"Great place for an escape," Fitz mused, "but those guys out there… you can't depend on them for anything except drugs and booze. Apart from that it's every man for himself. Most of 'em will stay like that forever… I think only a few of us ever get out and make something of ourselves."

Fitz was being philosophical.

Fitz.

Eli couldn't help but laugh.

Fitz narrowed his eyes dangerously, seemingly offended, but then his face lit up and he too dissolved into laughter.

After a couple of minutes, Eli managed to regain his composure, wiping at his eyes with the sleeve of his jacket and resting his head against the seat behind him.

"This is just a one time thing, alright?" He said. "Tomorrow, we go back to hating each other. Deal?" He held out his hand.

Fitz's lips quirked, before he grasped Eli's hand with his own. "Deal."

"Good. Now pass me another beer."

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FIN

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Sorry, no actual slash. I wanted to, but I wasn't sure where or how I'd fit that in, so I scrapped that idea. Maybe I'll write a sequel, though. Who knows.

In any case, it's 1:30 AM and my brain is starting to fall asleep, so I knew I had to end it.

But before I go to bed, there are a few things I need to clarify:

1) I've never smoked or done drugs, and have very little knowledge on the subject. Which is probably why the scene was executed so poorly. Forgive me.

2) This takes place some time after "Jesus, Etc." Although, as I mentioned in my first note, the initial idea of Fitz and Eli bonding popped into my head before even the Fall episodes aired, when we still weren't sure if Eli and Clare would be together after what happened in "All Falls Down"… and when we had no idea what had happened to Fitz.

3) This is my first time writing from Eli's perspective. I really hope I didn't butcher his or Fitz's character. I wanted to keep it realistic.

I think that's all I wanted to say. Hope you guys enjoyed, even though there was no actual slash.

Please REVIEW and tell me what you think!